


another place to let their hearts collide

by horlik_aholic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Frottage, Hair-pulling, M/M, Mild Kink, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, wtf how did this even happen the prompt was so simple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:13:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horlik_aholic/pseuds/horlik_aholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>niall cant sleep because of the fans outside, and he finds himself going to zayn for help.</p><p>set during south american leg of wwa tour</p>
            </blockquote>





	another place to let their hearts collide

**Author's Note:**

> p sure i got this prompt like well over a year ago but........ 
> 
> anyways yeah also its kind of completely different from the prompt so sorry about that and i started writing it when niall was tweeting at fans their first night in south america so that managed to make it into the fic as well so this is just like a mess of things idrk
> 
> title from one by ed sheeran bc i am uncreative and ed sheeran is the most creative so there
> 
>  
> 
> also on my tumblr at weyheyhorlik.tumblr.com

The fans are incredible, they really are. 

Niall just wishes they would maybe hold off on being incredible for, like, 8 hours or so and continue in the morning. He knows, he gets it— this is the band’s first time in South America and these fans are about as enthusiastic as fans get.

He just wants to  _sleep_.

#letniallsleep is the #1 worldwide trend on Twitter but despite good intention and best effort, it’s not quite working. 

He tosses over, facing himself away from the window and pushes one of the many extra pillows against his exposed ear. He has earplugs packed somewhere especially for occasions like this, but fuck if he knows where. Usually he tries to avoid them altogether if he can— they’re spectacularly uncomfortable and make him feel like he’s got a head cold. 

The minutes tick by as he lays there; cheering and singing from outside ringing in his ears and the pillows aren’t helping worth shit if he’s being honest.

Finally he sits up in defeat, sighing as he types out yet another useless tweet begging for quiet. Scrubbing at his face, he just sits and stares at the wall a moment, phone forgotten beside him, before he’s suddenly up and heading towards the door.

He’s a bit surprised, and he's only in only a flimsy t-shirt and his pants, but he lets his legs carry him down the hall until he finds himself in front of Zayn’s door. Hesitant, his fist hovers above the wood for a moment— Zayn can sleep through anything, he’s probably already asleep.

He shrugs and brings his knuckles down anyways in a light knock— might as well try. 

"Yeah, come in," Zayn’s voice rasps, and Niall can already feel his own agitation ebbing. 

Swiping the master key, he steps quickly in the room and lets the door swing shut quietly behind him. 

"Hey," he murmurs, immediately recognizing the sweet smell of weed hanging thick in the air. They’re not technically supposed to smoke in the rooms, but Zayn’s got his window cracked— and christ, it’s like the noise isn’t bothering him at all— and he always manages to get off without too much of a lecture so he figures its probably worth the risk. 

Zayn’s got the spliff perched between his fingers and he’s smiling lazily up at Niall through his eyelashes. “Hey, m’almost done with it but— fancy a hit?”

He probably shouldn’t, and he means to say no but instead he’s saying, “Yeah I— yeah. Sure.” 

He makes his way over to the bed where Zayn’s sprawled out shirtless and sits cautiously on the edge, folding one leg under himself as he takes the spliff. Taking the last drag, he sets the leftover filter on the bedside table ashtray and meets Zayn’s gaze, shoulders tense. 

"Can’t sleep?" Zayn guesses immediately, and Niall knows it isn’t because he’s seen the tweets. They’d all learned how to read each other a long time ago, and this is no exception. 

Niall just hums his affirmation, settling back onto the pillows with his jaw clenched tightly, distantly aware of his thigh brushing up against Zayn’s. 

"Well there’s no way you’ll find sleep anytime soon if you’re this wound up, like," the older lad begins, pausing to run his gaze along Niall’s frame, "Your shoulders are proper in your ears and your fists are white from clenching them, Ni. Gonna have to get you relaxed otherwise its no rest for the wicked, yeah?"

Before he can even respond, Zayn is pushing Niall forward with just enough force to create a space that he  barely manages to slip his wiry body into against the pillows, spreading his legs to accommodate the blonde now positioned between them.  

Niall’s confused but says nothing— it’s not the most compromising position they’ve ever been in, but it feels like the most intimate and that’s. Something, maybe.

“ _Relax_  Niall,” Zayn’s voice is soft and insistent and suddenly Niall doesn’t have it in him to fight it anymore, collapsing his full weight back against his best friend as the tension seeps out of his muscles and joints.

He feels Zayn’s knuckles brush his back before they come to rest on his shoulders, and Niall bites back a lazy laugh. Zayn must be  _really_ high if he’s willingly giving Niall a back massage without even being asked. Harry and Liam are usually the ones to go to for a massage (although, more often then not, he picks Liam— Liam manages to get through it without getting distracted by 400 separate things, which is more than can be said for Harry.) But if Zayn’s offering, he’s sure as hell not declining. 

Its immediately apparent that Zayn has no idea what he’s doing, but what he lacks in skill he’s making up for in confidence, working his deft fingers into the hollow beside Niall’s collarbone and thumbs into the muscles of Niall’s neck. And its certainly not Harry or Liam level of precision but something about this is almost better, although he can’t quite put his finger on  _what_. 

They sit like that in relative silence for a while, Zayn’s low humming in Niall’s ear drowning out the sounds of the fans outside as Niall’s entire body finally unwinds. It’s something he hadn't known he’d needed so desperately, and his body reacts to the stimulation without him even really realizing. A few minutes in and he’s already loose, calm, and half hard. He’s not bothered and even though he’s pretty sure its not even noticeable, he knows Zayn wouldn’t be bothered either. As Louis puts it,

"When 5 strapping, growing lads live in this close proximity for 8 months of the year, stiffies are unavoidable really; a fact of life." 

After a long while— what even is time, when you’re vaguely contact high and your best friend in the whole world is giving you a killer back massage?— Zayn finally eases his fingers and lets his hands slip off Niall’s shoulders, pressing a gentle kiss right where blonde hair meets Irish skin on Niall’s neck before pulling Niall down beside him so they can cuddle properly. 

Again, Niall bites back a surprised laugh. Zayn’s always been affectionate (mysterious bad boy? what a load of shite) but he’s fairly certain he’s never seen Zayn like  _this._

He feels Zayn cuddle closer, burying his nose in Niall’s neck, and is mildly confused when his own breath catches at the feeling of Zayn’s exhales tickling his spine. “Ni?” he feels as much as he hears the question in Zayn’s voice. “Yeah Z?” Niall waits a moment, and when it doesn’t seem like Zayn is going to finish his thought, he turns his body so the two are facing each other.

Zayn’s eyes scan his face thoughtfully as his hand comes up, tracing the skin above Niall’s temple.

"So soft," he observes, and the amount of wonder in his voice has Niall finally bursting out in a loud cackle. Zayn’s finger stills and he looks at Niall with a sweetly confused smile until the blonde wheezes out,

"You’re so high, Zayn."

His insistent “I’m not!” falls on deaf ears because Niall can tell by Zayn’s smile that the older boy is fully aware of just how high he is. Niall’s eyebrows are skeptical and he shakes his head, amused grin still etched on his face.

"If I was high, could I do  _this_?” Zayn ducks his head and pushes his lips against the blonde’s.

Niall smiles into it, humoring him, before laughing and pulling away, ”Honestly, mate, yes. You’re just proving my point even more.”

"Hm, is that right?"

Abruptly, Niall’s laugh is cut off as he sucks in a surprised breath. One of Zayn’s legs swings over his own, hands pushing Niall flat against the pillows as he shifts up to straddle the blonde properly. “Not laughing now are we?”

Sitting back so that his arse is bracketed by Niall's hips, Zayn curves his chest forward to press teasing kisses along the younger's jawline. 

He considers what Zayn's offering for a moment, grinning when he finally pulls Zayn back up to kiss him for real. He lets Zayn take control, tongue slipping into his mouth lazily with a familiarity that Niall can't help but be surprised by. It's new- hanging with Zayn doesn't usually entail the use of his lips for anything other than talking- but at the end of the day, it's still his  _Zayn._

"There we go,"  his words are lazy where he's now mouthing against Niall's neck, sucking light bruises into the sensitive skin there. "Finally getting you relaxed, yeah?" 

Niall lets his head drop back against the pillows, chin coming up to expose the column of his neck for Zayn's mouth to wander, doesn't care about the soft purple marks that he'll be covered in tomorrow. Only cares about the mouth mapping out his body and the quiet rustle of Zayn's fingers fisting into the sheets on either side of them. 

Zayn moves lower, making quick work of his shirt before acquainting himself with Niall's chest and torso, dragging his fingers along the smooth skin of his sides, and Niall's not thinking, not doing much of anything aside from letting himself enjoy this. A whine escapes as he brings his fingers to Zayn's hair and pulls playfully, stomach lurching at the low pleased sound Zayn makes in the back of his throat at the feeling. He pulls a bit harder at that, experimenting, and Zayn lets out a grunt that's hot against Niall's navel before angling his body downward to rut against Niall's thigh. 

"Zayn," Niall gasps out sharly as he feels Zayn's palm skim teasingly over his prick, "Get on with it then."

"Nah, don't think I will actually," and Niall stops breathing for a moment, because  _there's no way he misinterpreted this,_  before, "Wanna hear you first. Want you to talk to me."

His stomach lurches again, a hot swoop of arousal low in his tummy, " _God_ , Zayn. Want you, want your hands on me, want to get my hands on you-" he cuts himself off with a moan, not holding back this time, as Zayn shoves Niall's pants aside with record speed. His fingers wrap around Niall's leaking cock, and giving a quick tug he lets his weight fall forward onto the blonde, balance on his left forearm as he traps his right hand between them. 

Zayn's pulls are quick and filthy from the base to the head, tip pressed hard into his own pelvis and Niall grips the older lad tighter against him, grunts and moans blurring together while Zayn works his magic. 

Rutting forward on the upstroke, Zayn's body presses heavy against Niall's cock and that's all it takes for the blonde to come undone, mouth falling slack as he releases between them. 

Zayn strokes him through it and feels his own release building, rocking his hips down hard against Niall's hipbone, mindful of avoiding the blonde's sensitive, softening cock as he comes down from his high.

Niall is clearly spent, but he brings his hands up to grasp at Zayn's hair, biting down at the stubble lining his jaw. 

"Come on, come  _on_ ," Niall murmurs against him, giving a final, particularly hard, tug on the strands between his fingers before Zayn's coming too, wet patch blooming along the front of the sweats he'd been to lazy to remove. 

Using his last ounce of energy, Zayn's left arm gives out and he collapses fully onto Niall, slotting their lips together so that they're panting into each others mouths, loud against the silence of the room.

Neither even realize that the fans outside had finally quieted.

After probably a minute, Zayn rolls off Niall and forces himself to stand, fucking off to the bathroom to get a wet rag to clean them both. He takes care of himself first, grabbing a new pair of trackies and not bothering with pants as he slips them on, before going to help out a dozing Niall. 

"So dirty talk and hair pulling? No kidding? That's what does it for you?" and Niall's voice is slurred with sleep but there's no mistaking the smirk in his words. 

Zayn doesn't even have the energy to retort, just climbs into bed beside Niall and hums. "Guess next time we're gonna have to find out what does it for you, yeah?"

"Great idea, that."

**Author's Note:**

> kudos comments and constructive criticism are encouraged and appreciated hope you liked it xx


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